The American Samurai

When an abused Air Force dependent inadvertently stumbles into a fight to the death battle, he finds himself recruited into the CIA's assassin career pipeline and later becomes personally embroiled in deadly encounters with the Te Wu, the Chinese Secret Service.

Excerpt

Steve was playing with his meatloaf and mash potato gravy dam when Oak rapped on the door and stuck his head in.

"How're you doing, Steve? I brought by a gentleman who'd like to meet you. This a good time?"

Yeah, like I've got a choice, thought Steve. "Yes, sir, I've just finished dinner."

Floating in behind Oak and Major Hawthorne was the most handsome, distinguished-looking man that Steve had ever seen. He was in an immaculate uniform, some sort of stripes on the shoulder, and at least five rows of medals. He walked directly to Steve, looked him over, and said, "So, you must be the young lad who single-handedly decommissioned a platoon of the Queen's finest warriors?" He extended his right hand. "Please pardon my manners, my name is Bob Bradford."

Immediately impressed, Steve shook the man's hand. Actually, he was impressed by anyone of high rank that left out their rank when introducing themselves. "Nice to meet you, sir, and I'm terribly sorry about what happened."

The general rolled Steve's dinner cart a few feet away, patted the side of the bed to make sure Steve did not have something under the sheets, and sat down. His face softened, and he said in a quiet voice, "Why don't you just tell me all about it, and don't worry, we don't plan on flogging you or punishing you in any way. I just want to know from you what exactly transpired. Please start from the beginning, especially how you got there to start with."

Between Oak, Dorothy, and now this general, Steve was completely off balance. These people looked better than movie stars and did not follow any rehearsed scripts. Everything they said was impromptu and made perfect sense.

 Steve gave General Bradford his version of what happened. When Steve finished, the general whistled softly and said, "I just can't imagine how you managed to kill two and incapacitate another of our most experienced commandos in such a short period of time."

General Bradford looked at Oak with his swollen, black eye and with sutures in his eyebrows. Deeply sighing, he added, "And look at this very large and dangerous fellow. How could one boy inflict such catastrophic injuries?"

"I was very busy, sir, but I'm sorry I can't remember all the details."

"It appears that you are not the only one with memory problems," said General Bradford as he stood up and gently shook Steve's hand.

Steve could not believe the general would be leaving so soon. He expected to be grilled for hours, maybe even tortured.

General Bradford straightened out his uniform jacket. "I guess that will have to do. Have to catch a plane soon; otherwise, I'd like to stay and chat. Thank you for your time and candid explanation."

His adjutant opened the door for him. He was halfway through it when he turned and said to Steve, "In the future, if you happen to run across any more of our killer commandos, would you please take it easier on them? Our Queen may have a need for them." With that, he saluted Steve smartly, wheeled on his heel, and disappeared into the corridor.

Flabbergasted, Steve caught Oak smiling at him. "Can I join his army?"

Oak laughed. "It's the Royal Marines, and no, you can't; you're an American citizen. Besides, you're already spoken for."

Phil laughed and said to Oak, "Don't be so sure. That general can move the moon." Phil walked over to Steve, shook his hand, and said, "Well, you certainly taught me a lesson that I'll never forget. Take care, Steve. Hopefully next time we meet will be under more pleasant circumstances."

He left with Oak, and Steve was left wondering, Already spoken for?